


City of No Return

by Nephiliam



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nephiliam/pseuds/Nephiliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine won and Clary is Jonathan's prisoner. This is the story of Clary, thinking back to the final battle where she lost all of her friends, trying to ignore the world she lives in now</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kill Me

Clary curled up on the bed, her face pale and her body malnourished. She hadn't seen another face in days except for...his. The monster who came in every night, pretending he loved her when all he wanted to do was hurt her. If she had wanted to, she could have rolled up the sleeves of the long dress to look at the scars - scars that were deeper than the ones on her friends...her dead friends.

She cringed and rolled onto her other side, attempting to close out the pain of the world she lived in. But she could still remember every detail of that day. That one, horrible day.

Those who weren't old enough to fight were huddled together in the Penhallow's penthouse and buildings around it. Those who were sixteen and seventeen had abandoned their posts with the kids and went out to fight with their parents, including Isabelle and Jace. Jace had demanded she stay in the penthouse and watch the young kids, she wasn't trained at all - so she promised not to. And she was planning on keeping that promise, until the windows shattered and the kids upstairs started to scream. Some of the older boys ran up with daggers. The only thing Clary could do was herd everyone who was downstairs out of the house.

All around her was chaos. There was the scream of demons as they were sliced down and there was the scream of Shadowhunters as they bled to death. Clary pulled out her stele, though she couldn't think it much use. Why did I even come out here in the first place? And without a weapon? she thought angrily to herself. I'm so stupid. She turned to look for Jace but something had already locked it's eyes on her. The four eyed creature let out a scream and ran at her. She turned around as it came barreling down on her. She put her hands up to protect her face but the creature never landed its teeth into her skin. She opened her eyes to see Simon, breathing heavily, with goo all over his face, glaring at her. "Simon!" she exclaimed.

"What are you doing out here Clary? It's dangerous and you aren't trained!" he yelled, walking closer to her and gripping her forearm.

"They invaded the penthouse," she explained in a hurry. "And-"

"I don't care your reasons! Just get out-"

And then she heard an inhuman laugh - cold and hard. They both turned to watch as Jonathan sauntered closer to them, blood covering him from head to toe, almost no clean skin or cloth showing. "How sweet," he laughed. Clary flinched away from him and Simon pushed her behind himself. Next to her a Shadowhunter stuck its blade into a demon as its teeth drove home. They both died right there. "The vampire and my little sister, working together." He held a glowing blade in his hand and Clary was sure if someone even touched the thing they'd be burned to ash. Jonathan rolled it between his hands as if it was no problem. "You know, I don't exactly like the company you're keeping Clary." She was surprised she could hear him at all.

"Simon," Clary hissed. "Come on."

"Go back to the penthouse, Clary," Simon murmured. "This asshole is going down."

"Simon no."

"Go, Clary."

And suddenly Clary was pulled backwards by extremely sharp talons. She screamed as Simon turned to watch her get hurled into the air by some winged demon. "Clary-" and Jonathan attacked, pushing the blade through his stomach. Simon was still staring up as he fell to his knees.

"Simon!" Clary shrieked as the creature let her fall onto the blood stained grass; Clary could feel the deepness of the wounds in her stomach and back. She was sure she couldn't move at all. From where she was sprawled she saw as Jonathan pulled the blade from Simon's stomach and put the sword up to his neck to behead him. Clary meekly attempted to call his name as Jonathon brought the sword down and Simon's head rolled away.

Clary stared at it, shell-shocked.

There was a scream and a whip came down on Jonathan's face, cutting a deep slice into his cheek. Jonathan fell backwards as Isabelle's whip came down again, only this time it wrapped around Jonathan's hand and he pulled it out of her hand. Feet suddenly appeared in front of Clary and hands pulled her up.

"Clary," Jace whispered into her hair as he picked her up and started running. "What the hell, you're supposed to be safe at the Penhallow's penthouse with the kids." Jace ducked under something sharp that swung towards him and a wave of nausea swept over Clary. She held it in for Jace's sake.

"The...demons...attacked.." Clary choked.

"Then you run into a safer building, stupid!"

"It...hurts..."

"I know, I know." Suddenly Jace stopped running and set her down. Not so gently he took the stele from her hands, which had been clinging to them until her skin, and drew a healing ruin on her arm. Clary could hardly feel the sting of it. "What got you?"

"...it was...flying..."

"Well it's not demon poison then."

Clary suddenly realized that it had gotten a little quieter, at least she couldn't hear as many human screams. "Everyone's dying," she coughed, slowly regaining her strength and sitting up.

"No Clary, everyone's dead. I can't imagine there are many people left alive. There were a number of us who suddenly, well, they suddenly got stronger than even those with partners. And they started fighting against us, slicing us down by the dozen." Clary gazed into his eyes as he spoke and for the first time she saw an underlying panic. "We're going to loose this battle."

"Give me the stele," she whispered. "And meet me at the Gard in...five minutes. Bring as many of us as you can find. We're getting out of here-"

"I don't think so."

Jace stood and turned quicker than Clary could follow with her eyes to glare at Jonathan, who had Isabelle's whip clenched in the hand that wasn't carrying the sword. Clary groaned at the sudden knowledge that Isabelle hadn't won the fight with her brother. A moment flashed where she wondered what had happened to Alec and Magnus, or Maryse and Robert Lightwood. She hated that there was almost a one hundred percent chance they were dead.

Clary attempted to push herself off of the ground but collapsed onto her stomach. Jace didn't turn around to look at her; his only focus was on the target in front of him. Demons circled around the three and swarmed up above them, Clary wondered for a moment why they weren't attacking. It was probably because of Jonathan; maybe the unnatural presents of him warded the creatures off.

"I'm planning," Jonathan grinned. "On killing you slowly. Never letting you die so that she," he jerked his head towards Clary. "Can watch you suffer." Clary groaned and pushed herself to her knees, this time balancing and pushing back the wave of nausea that hit her. She spit blood out of her mouth and attempted to ignore the pain.

"So where's Valentine?" Jace asked.

"He's around here. Somewhere. But he's given me reign on what both of your fates will be. And," a weird grin appeared on his face, "I've got an idea on what that'll amount to." Jonathan's eyes flicked to Clary for a fraction of a moment, and back to Jace. "But be assured, my father will be around to watch the finale of this battle - and of course this will be approaching shortly.

"But first," he dripped the whip and let it fall to the ground. "Let me just comment..." Clary felt a sudden stinging on her neck and a hand surge around her mouth. Before she was able to scream, her voice was suddenly caught off. Her hands went to the hand and attempted clawing at it until she was pulled backwards by her hair. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, though nothing came out. "...that you aren't very good at keeping an eye on the things you love."

Jace wildly turned to stare at Valentine as he gripped Clary's flaming red hair. He was in shock. Valentine's face was a stony white, as if he didn't enjoy what he was doing. "Jonathan," Valentine said, moving his eyes to his blood son. "Are you planning on keeping your sister?"

"Indeed I am, father."

"And him?"

"For awhile."

Clary woke from her thoughts when she heard the door open and close. She flinched even though it closed softly behind the person who had entered. She squeezed herself tighter, hoping the monster wouldn't bother her for one night. For just one night. But she felt as someone crawled onto the bed beside her and snaked their way next to her.

Jonathan


	2. Torture Me

She flinched as his hands brushed along her arms and to her neck. She withheld yelping as his lips went to the hair that fell over her ear. "I know you're awake," he whispered. His hands gripped her arm and pulled her to her back and he snickered, finding the picture of his sister, curled into an egg, humorous. He brushed kisses alongside her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

Fighting him was no longer an option. She had tried so many times but...but it was impossible. He had the strength of a demon and an angel combined. He was unstoppable. Her eyes refused to open so that she didn't have to look at him. She wouldn't look into his dead eyes as he threatened to rape her. Again. "It's time to see Jace, Clary," he whispered.

Though it was an awful thing to say, Clary dreaded seeing Jace. When she had first been brought to...wherever she was being held, all she could do was cry. After the first few days she was brought down to the chamber where Jace was held and tied to a chair, a rune drawn onto her almost naked back forcing her to keep her eyes open and watch as Jonathan beat Jace to a bloody mess - not that he wasn't already covered in his own blood and sweat. For the first couple times she was brought down there all she could do was cry and say how much she loved him, to not give in no matter what, because she wasn't going to give in.

After that she just tried talking him through the pain, through being beaten and whipped. Tried bringing up memories. Tried making him smile. But, she realized the more words she used, the more blood Jonathan spilled. Eventually, well eventually, she just stopped talking. And then she stopped flinching every single time the whip was brought down, or every single time Jonathan used a small dagger to dig into Jace's skin. She thought that, if she stopped reacting to Jace's unbelievable pain, then Jonathan would just kill him. Just let him die.

As of yet, that hadn't happened.

Jonathan laid her out across the bed, letting her arms spread out and her head tilt to the side. She had completely given up on everything; she couldn't even dress herself anymore, thus Jonathan took it upon himself to pick out her outfits and dress her like a doll. Normally, Clary would have been unbearably embarrassed, but what was the real point of that emotion? Or any emotion? It wasn't like anything honestly mattered, not in the Hell she lived in every day.

Her mind roamed as Jonathan took his knife and cut her out of the long dress, as he did almost every day. He would never take the time to actually take it off, why would he when he could easily acquire new clothing?

Valentine had her by the hair as Jace lunged at Jonathan, cutting the dagger towards his face. Jonathan was in his line of path until suddenly...he wasn't. Both Jace and Clary had almost forgotten how quick Jonathan could be. Suddenly he was there, behind Jace, teasing him by poking him in the back with the sword. Clary wanted to scream as Jace ducked down and stabbed at his knee.

And it continued this for the Angel knows how long. It was an elegant dance between the brothers, an angel and a devil, swiping for each other's blood. But even Clary could tell who was going to finish with less damage. It was the one who had more maneuvers, who could move yards away before the other had time to blink. The one who had the blood of a demon but the abilities of both an angel and a demon. And she was right. Jace was losing blood by the pint, Clary could see it in his face and his movements - he was slowly becoming sluggish and his eyes drooped.

Clary gripped at the stele still in her hand, she briefly wondered why Valentine hadn't noticed it.

"Oh I notice it," Valentine suddenly said. Clary jerked her head to look up at him. "But I don't honestly care. Jonathan can see it too. If you even attempt to throw it at him not only will Jonathan get it instead, you will get sever consequences from me."

Fuck you! she mouthed at him.

Valentine ignored her and looked back to the fight. Clary reached up and pulled on her hair, ignoring his threat. That's when she felt a sudden pain on her back. Her eyes went wide and looked up at Valentine. He pulled the dagger from her back and held up the metal, red stained on the tip. Her mouth was open in shock. Distantly she heard someone call her name, but it was too far away. It was as if someone was calling her name but the roar of a bus drowned them out.

There was a stinging on the back of her neck as she felt the familiar rune force her eyes open. At first it was strange; Jonathan didn't need a stele to draw runes onto skin, all he needed was his finger. Somehow, it made the pain ten times worse than a normal rune, though she couldn't begin to imagine why. She watched as Jace hang from his wrists, all the life pulled from his eyes. One would have thought he was a dead body if it wasn't for the fact his chest rose and fell ever so lightly.

Clary watched Jace as Jonathan came around and slit his own wrist, grabbing Jace's mouth and forcing the blood down his throat. Jace choked on it and his body started withering in pain, his skin visibly shaking from how much it hurt. Jonathan's blood burned through Jace's veins, his eyes bulging and the whites turning red as the veins in his eyes popped. Clary was almost sure he was going to go blind, if he wasn't already. Jace's fists clenched against the metal and his muscles bulged.

Of course, Jace had only a small amount of clothing left on him, only covering his genitals. Clary couldn't count the number of scars and open wounds that littered Jace's beautiful body, then again she could hardly see a patch of skin. It was covered it his own blood, never once getting a bath or shower. She briefly wondered how he was still alive, how those wounds weren't completely infected, how he hadn't just died of total exhaustion.

But she wanted him to die. She wanted him to drop dead already. And not for her own sake, or to end her own pain, but to finally end Jace's pain. To let him find the Angel Raziel and tell him he did wrong by giving Valentine what he wanted. To let out all the hatred he had for Valentine, for Jonathan, even for Clary. She almost thought she deserved the same fate as Valentine for how she thought of him now. How much he wanted to him die.

She was still working on that.

Every night, after Jonathan had left, she practiced using her own finger to draw the runes. She had gotten so close. She could feel the power surge inside her, and she was now able to direct the power into her hand, but she was still waiting to figure out how to push the energy out into a rune. There was a rune inside of her head, one that she was certain would kill the one she loved the most.

She would call it Final Death.

Jace suddenly screamed and Clary withheld the flinch it almost caused. She knew Jace had tried to stop screaming, it only showed his weakness and it only hurt Clary. But the number of times demon blood went through him was enough to kill even the strongest of men. The second thing he wanted most in the world was to die, and the first was for Clary to die. Only to end her suffering. He could see the pain in her eyes; how she flinched every time Jonathan touched her. Jace didn't want to know the awful things Clary's brother had done to her.

But he knew. He knew just by looking at her. And that every single time something happened to her, he could hear her screams from somewhere above him. Silently, he cried for her, because he didn't know the exact way he was hurting her, but it got worse every time it happened. Her cries got louder and filled with more and more agony. He didn't want to scream for her, because he knew that if he could hear them they could hear him. Clary's soul would hurt even more.

Except Clary's soul was already damaged and broken.

When Jonathan left she poured all the rage and pain into her fingertips and pressed them against the bed, screaming as she finally pressed it out. And finally, she saw a spark of something. The beginning of her rune. Of Final Death.

Now all she had to do was get to Jace and paint the rune on his chest. All she had to do was save Jace.

All she had to do was kill him.


	3. Abuse Me

On occasion Clary was forced to dine with her family, meaning Jonathan and Valentine. Jocelyn had been slaughtered by Valentine's hand, and Clary had watched it all. Usually, these events took place after she was forced to watch Jace's pain, such as this one. During their "family dinners" Clary could only stare at the plate of food while Jonathan and Valentine chattered about something they were doing; someone new they were killing; something else they were taking control of. At first, Clary had thought Valentine had the whole world in his fist, but that wasn't how it had worked out. There were still Downworlders and Shadowhunters fighting against his power.

But they were rarely brought up, because they weren't actually a threat. They were a quaint annoyance Valentine would snuff out eventually; when he felt like it. Even more rare though, Valentine asked about Clary's well-being. If it had been his choice, she would have died along with her mother. But he was doing his son a favor, letting her live only for Jonathan's selfish greed. He was disappointed in his son; he took to raising his son to feelings that reached the immortal gods. Pleasure and lust was not a feeling that one should have. But what could he say? He had felt the same for Jocelyn. Especially as he sliced her down.

This was one of those extremely rare occasions. "She looks much more pale than usual," Valentine commented as he cut off a piece of potato. "What have you been doing with your sister?"

"Father," Jonathan said, his eyes wide with surprise. "I didn't realize you cared for what happened to her. I assumed-"

"That she is here for your personal play," his father cut in. "Yes, yes. I have no need for her, so it is only right she go to you. But she is still a guest."

He said the words as if he truly meant it. Clary's eyes flicked to him for the first time. Why would he possibly be concerned with anything that had to do this his daughter? What right did he even have?

"I am treating her with the utmost respect and concern."

"Of course." And they started back into a conversation of politics, how to go about negotiating with the gods.

Clary's eyes flicked back to her food. Any chance that Valentine cared about his only daughter was gone in a single moment, like a candle's flame sparking in and out of existence during a rainstorm.

Clary was roused as Jonathan slapped her. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, arms out and reaching for something beyond her. Her brother stood over her, his eyes squinted as if he were figuring out a difficult math problem. A scream died in Clary's throat as she watched his black eyes, terror screeching through every pour.

"Stand up," Jonathan demanded. Clary's mouth was open in a small O shape, unable to respond. Hadn't she just been stabbed? Why was she not dead? "Stand up!" he yelled. She flinched and slowly rolled to her knees to stand. Impatient, Jonathan didn't let her get that far by herself. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up, none to gently. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. She didn't want him touching her.

She attempted pulling away from him as he hauled her to the Angel statue in the middle of Idris.

And it stopped her heart.

Lying in front of the statue lay her friends. The intellectual part of her knew Jonathan had probably informed Valentine of every single person she cared about, but all she could do was stare in horror. Some of them were dead, body parts completely missing and giant wounds bubbling with demon potion. Others where lying face down, their arms and feet tied behind them. As she came closer she counted those alive.

Luke. Izzy. Alec. She was surprised Isabelle was alive, she had thought Jonathan had killed him when she had attacked him. But she looked near-death, eyes drooping and breathing shallow. Jace swirled through her head. Where was he? Beside Alec lay the dead. Simon and his head. Robert. Maryse. Maia. Magnus. Alec was turned to stare at the dead warlock, who's face was turned towards his boyfriend with his eyes closed.

"Clarissa," Valentine's voice cut sharply through her horror. She looked up to see him standing next to her mother, who had runes of incapacitation running up and down her arms. Jocelyn's head was turned slightly to the side, as if contemplating what food place to get delivered, and had a far away look in her eyes. Clary breifly wondered what her mom was seeing at that moment, if it was back in the days when the Circle was still harmless and she was still in love with Valentine.

"Mom..." Clary whispered.

"Clarissa," Valentine repeated, softer. "I'd like to thank my son for giving me this...idea. You see, it seems we aren't going to kill you, for the sake of my son. But there is a way to break you, my dear."

Clary suddenly started uncontrollably jerking her arms and body. She wanted to get as far away from Jonathan and Valentine and her friends as fast as possible.

"Clarissa!" Valentine shouted. Clary flinched and slid to the concrete, her brother's hands still gripping her arms. She wouldn't allow herself to cry, not yet. "You will watch, or you will be punished." For the first time, Jonathan forced her eyes open with the rune that came from his fingers. She had screamed at first. It felt like someone was driving a knife into her neck and carving away her flesh. When he was finished she fell backwards into his legs, her head pounding and bile pooling in her mouth; she swallowed it back down.

Valentine stood over Izzy, the mortal instrument in hand. Clary hadn't noticed he had been holding it, too preoccupied with other things. He kicked her to turn her over, her head turned to the side, watching her brother. Alec had started screaming profanity and curses at Valentine, staring now at his sister. Luke's eyes were turned away from Isabelle, staring up at Clary, though she ignored him completely, focused on what was about to happen. Valentine did well to ignore Alec's curses as he brought the blade over his head. Clary started screaming as well, begging him to stop, to not do this, it would only make her fight more.

And he brought it down.

Watching Isabelle get stabbed in the chest was one of the hardest things to watch. Simon's death had been terrible, but it was different. He had had a chance; he fought bravely and like a Shadowhunter. But Isabelle was just...there. She was just lying there, helpless. He moved to Alec, the blade red with his sister's blood. Alec rolled onto his back himself, now lying shoulder to shoulder with Magnus; and that's where he kept his eyes too, as Valentine brought the sword up once more. Clary was the only one to be left screaming for him as he was stabbed through the chest.

Clary couldn't see the look on Alec's face, but she guessed it was bliss. He could rest in peace with Magnus. She tried saying the words of death for them but they wouldn't come out, her mouth and throat were too dry to do anything.

Before going up to Luke he went to her mother. This made Clary scream despite how much pain it caused her, attempting to crawl forward but unable to. Clary could see the sick grin on Valentine's face as he drew out a stele and drew something on the back of her mother's neck, binding her hands and feel and, Clary assumed, forcing her eyes open as well.

That's when Valentine started cutting her. Slicing her arms up and down, covering her skin with blood. It seemed to wake Jocelyn up, moving her head and her arms, her face turning from a far away place back to Earth. She was staring right at Clary when she realized what was going on and started struggling. "I wouldn't do that," Valentine said, bending down so the two were face to face. "Your hands and feet are bound, if you try to get out of it it'll burn you."

"Let Clary go," Jocelyn demanded, her throat more dry than her daughters. Clary strained to here them.

"I'm doing this for my son's sake," Valentine said. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear so his children couldn't hear. "Such a disappointment those two."

He pulled away and went to Luke, Jocelyn's eyes following him every step of the way. Luke had turned on his own at one point, when no one had been watching him. His glasses had disappeared during the battle, and he was probably having a hard time staying focused on Valentine.

"Well, my old friend," Valentine said, as he drew the sword up. "This will be much harder for me than you."

"For some reason," Luke said, calm, like he was walking through the park. "I don't believe that's quite true."

Jocelyn screamed as Valentine brought the sword down on Luke's head. Clary heard the metal sizzle around Luke's skin, but wouldn't watch the wound. She watched the blade instead. Clary realized there were tears streaming down her face; she wondered when it had started as Valentine pulled the metal out of Luke's skull and turned to Jocelyn. "Mom, mom please no," Clary started whispering to herself. "Not my mom, please, no."

Jocelyn, tears on her cheeks as well, stared at the man she once loved as he came closer to her with the sword. "I knew you were sick," Jocelyn hissed. "But sick enough to kill for amusement? That was never like you, Valentine."

"It seems the power of an Angel pushes one to do almost anything," he responded, his smile sincere. "And I'm not going to keep you like I'm keeping my daughter. No, I'm going to cut you down and be rid of you."

"You loved me once."

"A very long time ago." He said, bringing the bloodied metal above his head.

And he brought the sword down.

Jonathan pulled Clary out of the dining room. She turned backwards to see Valentine had already left and the plates had been taken away. Jonathan was talking about something or another, being more polite to their father, seeing as she only got to see him during dinner. Clary wanted to scream at him them, an urge she hadn't had since she had first gotten there. But there was no point in it, there was nothing she could do about it.

The door suddenly locked behind Clary and she realized that they had arrived at her room and she had been pushed in, Jonathan following behind her and locking the door. It was something he didn't normally do when he was in the room with her; there was nothing she could do against him. As he slowly led her to the bed her mind drifted to Jace, who spent his days and nights locked away somewhere, arms strung up and bleeding. She wondered if there was a rune somewhere on his body that kept him alive like that.

Jace was thinking about her as well. It was the only thing he could bare to think about in such a horrid place. There was a high pitched scream somewhere above him, unmistakably Clary's voice. Silently, he cried. The first time it had happened he had almost bit his tongue through to keep from screaming at Jonathan to stop what he was doing. God, if Jace ever got his hands on that monster he'd...

It wasn't the time to have another fantasy about torturing his torturer, it was time to plan. It was odd, how his best ideas happened when he and Clary were in so much pain. Her screams became shrieks and he heard something thump from up above, like someone had knocked over a lamp. Clary was still shrieking.

As he cried he pulled helplessly at the chains as he thought. All he needed was a weapon of some sort, but nothing every came close to him. He wasn't fed or given anything for his throat. The only thing keeping him alive was a rune on his left shoulder blade, one he hadn't seen before. He wondered if Jonathan didn't have the same kind of weird power Clary did, to create runes. But when she got her runes from an Angel, perhaps he achieved his from a Greater Demon. Jace's wounds closed quicker than he expected. Not as quick as the runes he had, but enough for the next whipping he got.

Clary's screams got louder and louder, as if she were running around the room, trying to get away from Jonathan. Jace wanted nothing more than to call to her, to tell her to come down to him.

But he could hardly open his mouth to cry.


	4. Rape Me

Clary fell off of the bed, acting only on her feelings, for once. It reminded her of the first time he tried to rape her, she had gone down kicking and screaming. This time, she ran to the door, pounding on it, hoping the wood would break, screaming. Jonathan grabbed her arms and pulled her backwards, letting her fall and hit her head on the carpet. For a moment she felt she was hovering over her own body, watching Jonathan stand over her in only a pair of black jeans, his blond hair falling around his face like an angel.

But she knew better.

Before she knew it she was on her feet again, on the other side of the room, her arms up and ready to fight. Jonathan was turned towards her, his hands loosely at his sides, as if he were waiting for a bus. She wanted to scratch out his eyes and stab him. She pushed power into her fingers, ready to do anything with them, if only to make him hurt.

He attacked first, reaching out towards her. The most she was able to accomplish was to tear her fingers down his stomach, pushing everything into them and out. Angrily, he pushed her to the side and stared down at his body. On his chest were three lines of black that were glowing, power radiating off of them. He glared at her, angry for her disobedience and sudden change of power.

At first, Jonathan had thought about killing her off the moment the Uprising began. He didn't need her. But, as the Angel granted him eternal power, he knew what he wanted. Not to be with her, or any kind of vulgar love. All he wanted was a doll of some sort, something he could take care of and abuse without the worry the doll might disappear. When the opportunity to keep his sister came, well, he took it. She was the perfect choice. She knew everything he could do, what he was, and Valentine wouldn't have any kind of doubt in keeping her. It was a perfect solution.

Jonathan reached forward and dug his nails into Clary's wrists. She screamed and twisted. And Jonathan laughed; he knew Clary couldn't do more than a couple of scratches - Hell, they weren't even runes. It couldn't hurt him.

He dragged her to the bed just as Clary gave up.

When she knew there was nothing more to fight, the only solution was to think of something nice or pretty. Or Jace, who happened to be both of those things. At first, she tried to pretend it was Jace above her and he wasn't doing it exactly how Jonathan was. Because Jace loved her and respected her; because he'd never hurt her like that. But it tainted her mind, if she succeeded in replacing Jonathan with Jace, it was Jace who was raping her. Nothing could change the reality of what was happening to her body.

She had attempted thinking of Idris, but all that remained there were bodies of dead friends and family. She couldn't do it anymore.

She couldn't think of her friends either, only the images of their dead bodies remained in her head.

She couldn't think of her home, or Luke's home; there was an unpleasant taste in that. She had been happy there, living as a family with her mother and Luke. Her friends used to be there, before their untimely death.

So she thought of the sky.

The big, bright blue sky. Something that couldn't change in her head, no matter how hard she tried, because if someone thinks of a blue sky, it won't turn black. She could think of birds and bugs that flew by; she had tried thinking of the shifting clouds but they always changed into unpleasant people. Like Jonathan. Or Valentine.

Valentine pulled the sword out of Clary's mother and stepped back. Clary couldn't see it, but there was a sick grin on Valentine's face - half regret, half triumph. And who wouldn't feel triumphant? The woman who had been holding him back for so long, the one who hide a child from him. The one who he had loved more than anything else. She was finally gone, no longer holding him back from everything he was going to do. Everything he was going to do, except that he had wanted to find her. Make her understand everything he did.

Valentine wanted to turn to Jocelyn's daughter, to stab her through the head just as he had done to her mother. But as he turned there was Jonathan, cold eyes, staring at his father proudly. Valentine could barely register Clary's screaming, her twitching body as she stared at her own mother, crumpled in a pile of her own blood. She didn't mean to, but she was backing up into Jonathan, wanting to escape the awful scene that would torment her brain forever.

Jonathan still had his hands around her arms, and as he looked up at his father in delight, his fingers loosened.

Still screaming, she pulled away from him and ran at Valentine.

At the time, she had had no idea what she was planning on doing when she got there. Maybe pull the sword away from him and stab her father in the chest. Or stab her brother. Or stab herself. But as she got closer she lost her momentum. She fell at his feet, breathing heavily, crying. There was nothing she'd be able to do to him, no matter how hard she tried. She was stuck between him and his son.

Jonathan was behind her in less than a second, looming over her small, broken form. Valentine waved him off and stared down at her, smirking. He bent down and grabbed her chin to force her to stare at her mother.

"Do you see what I can do? Do you see my power?"

Clary cried hard, mumbling incoherent words that had to do with the death of everything she loved.

"Do you see that you have no chance?"

Finally, Clary jerked her face away and crawled the couple of yards towards her mother. When she was finally upon the body she got to her knees and put her mother's head in her lap and bent forward, crying and shaking. Her hands were visibly shaking as she smoothed the bright red hair off of Jocelyn's face. Chanting softly to herself, "Mom, mom, mom," Clary gently set her mother back on the cold ground.

As she stood, her legs wobbled, and it took her a couple of attempts.

But she turned all the same to stare at Valentine and Jonathan.

"I will never," she growled. "Give in to you. Either of you."

When Clary had stopped screaming Jace let out a sigh and leaned against his chains. Tears stained his cheeks, but he knew they'd be gone by the time Clary came back down to watch him suffer.

But the door creaked open and Jonathan sauntered in, boastful and narcissistic as usual.

Jace wanted to gag at Jonathan's appearance. He wore no shirt and the button on his jeans were open, his boxers sticking out. Jonathan was taunting him of course, proving that whatever Jace thought was happening actually was. But it was strange that Jonathan was even down there, seeing as he had never come to visit Jace alone. Not once.

"Did you hear those beautiful sounds?" Jonathan asked, taking a seat in the chair Clary normally sat in. No one ever came in to remove the old wooden thing. It always just sat here, staring at him, waiting, wondering what he would do next.

Jace didn't reply.

"But of course you did. It's exactly why I put you directly below our room. Then again," Jonathan smirked, "everybody in the building could be able to hear that."

Jace didn't show emotion.

"Isn't it a lovely sound? Clary crying out every single time I-"

Jace tried to ignore the words that were spouting from the man's mouth, ignoring how Jonathan gave him every little detail about what he did. How he touched her. How he pinned her down. Jace's stomach twisted and he suddenly turned, throwing up. Of course, there was nothing to throw up, just a bit of saliva and acid from his stomach.

Jonathan laughed. And, quite honestly, Jonathan had a beautiful laugh, no matter how cruel it was.

"We've got a connection, you and I," Jonathan said. Jace flinched and shook his head.

"I'm nothing like you."

"We were raised by the same man. A demon boy and an angel boy. We're practically brothers, you and I."

"You're crazy."

"Am I?" Jonathan sauntered forward and reached to grab Jace's cheek. Jace flinched backwards but still Jonathan grabbed him, locking his jaw in place. "Because I think I'm just making the world how it's supposed to be. Isn't that what the mundane's did when they were the ultimate rulers? Did they not morph the world into what they thought was correct and beautiful?"

Jace wanted to spit at him but Jonathan's hand prevented him from doing that.

"Well, this is what I think is beautiful. This is how I think the world should be. And thus," Jonathan let go and turned quickly, walking back to the door, "that is how it will be."


End file.
